The Life of an Antagonist
by TheQueenofBooks1000
Summary: "The ten-year-old can't help but wonder why meetings, golf, and dates are more important than she is." Just a fic containing the life stories of the antagonists, from Heather to Scott. Slight AleHeather, one-sided Justin/Courtney.
1. Heather: Ballet Slippers

**So…this story is basically some random snippets of the lives of the antagonists.**

**It's supposed to be angst, although I'm a sucky angst writer, so you probably won't be affected…much. Anyway, here's our first antagonist, Heather!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/WT/ROTI. (IF I DID...SHUDDERS)**

* * *

Seven year old Heather sat on one of the swings, motionless. Her classmates were laughing, squealing, and basically enjoying the playground, while she sat there, shunned by all.

The raven-haired little girl frowned, wondering why she was such an outcast, although in her young mind, the question was more of, "How come no one likes me?"

It wasn't as if she weren't trying. Like Mommy said, she had to be friendly. (Mommy also said something about 'manipulating,' but she didn't really know what the word meant.) So she tried to hang out with the girls from her class. It went surprisingly well…until she tripped over a branch and went sprawling on the concrete.

"Klutz!" Tiffani, the girl with the best Barbie collection, snorted.

"What does that mean?" Heather wondered.

"It means you're a fat weirdo! Go play with the boys. You're icky, just like them!"

Perhaps Tiffani wasn't serious, but Heather followed her advice and ran to the boys, who were playing kickball.

"Can I play with you guys?" Heather asked politely.

The rude little kids burst out laughing. Some bully even pulled her pigtail.

And that was how she wound up sitting alone on a swing.

* * *

An Asian woman carefully did her makeup. She checked her reflection on the mirror, nodded, and hurried out of her bedroom. She was almost late for her meeting.

Just as she was about to leave the house, Heather stopped her. "Hi, Mom!" the ten-year-old exclaimed. "Can you help me with my homework?"

Heather's mother let out an exasperated sigh. "Heather, sweetie, can't you see Mommy's busy? Go ask your father!" Pushing past her daughter, the lady walked to her car, slammed the door, and drove off.

Sighing, Heather went to her father's study. Before she could knock, he walked out. He spotted his daughter and smiled. "Hi, Heather Feather!"

She perked up. "Hi, Daddy! Can you help me with—"

Before she could finish, her dad was already shaking his head. "Sorry, kiddo, but I have to leave today." He gestured at his golf clubs. "Hanging out with the guys, you know? Good luck with that…thing of yours, though! Bye!" And he went rushing out of the door just like Mommy did.

Heather didn't really have much of a choice. She knocked on her sister's door.

"Go away!" her sister's muffled voice said.

"I need help with homework."

"I have a date in less than twenty minutes! Ask someone else to help you out!"

The ten-year-old can't help but wonder why meetings, golf and dates are more important than she is.

* * *

When she turned eleven, Heather took up ballet dancing.

The instructor was kind of skeptical at first, since, being on the chubby side, Heather had a bit of trouble with balance.

"Are you absolutely sure?" the instructor asked Heather's mom.

"I'm sorry, what?" Heather's mother asked, breaking off her conversation in the phone.

"Your daughter," the instructor said plainly, looking Heather down from her glasses. The raven-haired pre-teen squirmed under her icy scrutiny.

"Oh, yes," the mother said absently, then returned to her phone call.

The ballet teacher nodded. "Very well."

* * *

Here's the thing about ballet.

It's much harder than it looks.

But Heather worked hard. She tried to ignore the sniggers from the girls every time she fell on her rear. She ran every morning, and began to eat less junk food. She tried to bear the pain on her toes after every lesson, and tried to make the bruised toes look better by applying nail polish on her toenails.

Pretty soon, Heather got the hang of it. She danced gracefully and won a few awards, much to the delight of her parents.

Oh, so NOW they acknowledge her existence. Dammit, she didn't even care anymore.

She chose to ignore the compliments from everyone as she moved to the melody of _The Swan Lake._

When she was dancing, nothing else mattered except the music and her.

* * *

Things were beginning to look up for the raven-haired girl when she reached fourteen. She slimmed down, shot up a few inches, and her dad got a really huge promotion.

Because of that, the entire family moved away from their old neighborhood, to a much nicer one.

Heather tapped her foot impatiently, as her older sister and younger brother said goodbye to their friends. "Hurry up," she sneered. "It's not like they're going to die or anything."

All pairs of eyes shot her glares. "Why? Don't you have any friends to see you off?" her sister taunted. Her brother nodded in agreement.

The ballet dancer tossed her hair. "Like I need any," she sniffed. "I'm going to the car. You're free to join me after your mushy little party."

A bitter taste rose up Heather's mouth, but she ignored it as they finally travelled to their new house…well, mansion was more like it.

On her first day of high school, Heather became instantly popular as she strutted inside the school in her designer top and shorts.

A lot of girls wanted to hang out with her. Most guys asked her out for dates.

She didn't give them the time of the day.

After all, no one was nice to her when she was a fat, pimply adolescent. They were only after her looks and her money.

* * *

A few months after she turned sixteen, she saw a commercial with a dark-haired guy with a nasally voice.

"Are you a teenager looking for excitement…or an excuse to get out of school? Do you want a million bucks and cheesy tabloid fame? Then audition for this brand new reality show, Total! Drama! Island!"

Heather sat down, her eyes trained on the TV.

"You'll be staying in a five-star hotel, with only the finest gourmet food!" The man snickered, then continued. "All you have to do is win some _super easy _challenges against other teens, and there you have it! A million dollars! I'm your host, Chris McLean, and I hope to torture—er, I mean, see you soon!"

Heather quickly copied the details down on a notepad. After a moment's consideration, she grabbed the camcorder and went to the bathroom.

* * *

It was NOT a five-star hotel.

That was the first thing Heather noticed about this crappy place. That, and the fact that it was full of stupid people.

As she sat on a tree stump, watching the other teenagers mingle with one another, sharp nostalgia hit her senses.

Suddenly, she was a chubby six-year-old again, and everyone was enjoying themselves. Everyone but her.

She clenched her fists and stood up. Time to start the drama.

* * *

Basically, Total Drama destroyed her life.

After watching her humiliation in national TV, such as her wrath, her cruelty, and most importantly, her baldness, people began to lose their respect for her.

Which was why all those guys, who were once eager to ask her out, turned her down when she needed a date.

Typical. Except, unlike last time, she couldn't get away from the people who made fun of her, because, as stated above, her humiliation was witnessed in national television.

Maybe that was why she found herself joining season after season, competing for the money and fame.

And maybe that's why she met Alejandro.

After a season of arguing with her teammates and more doses of embarrassment, she found herself in the final two.

With Alejandro. Damn.

The Latino stole her title as the main antagonist, and even worse, she found herself slowly falling for him.

And it all boiled down (quite literally) in Hawaii, on a volcano.

And then…Alejandro confessed his love for her. Well, double damn.

As she looked into his dark eyes, she almost felt…as if her were telling the truth. And when he kissed her, she felt _energized, _as if all those years of suffering were slipping away.

WAIT.

All those years of suffering. People never respected her. Nobody cared about her. And they were too damn superficial, suddenly liking her when she lost weight and became rich.

Heather kept that thought in mind as she slowly raised her knee.

This is how she will end it.

* * *

**Um...once again, I'm not much of an angst writer. Please go easy on me. *cowers in the corner* Next antagonist is...Justin. Ugh. I'd like to skip the TDA antagonists and go straight to Alejandro or Scott, but oh well. Please review. :)**


	2. Justin: Statue

**Hey, guys. Still in an angsty mood, so I thought I should update this first. :P**

**Next up is…Justin, Justin, JUSTIN.**

**Um, ugh…**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/WT/ROTI**

* * *

Some kids can play the piano by ear. Some kids can draw their favorite cartoon character within minutes. Some can write short stories and little poems on scraps of paper.

Children just develop their talents as they mature.

Take Gina, for example. She can sing a medley of songs while tap-dancing. She _claimed _that she can do all that while balancing a spoon on her nose, but she has yet to show it.

Of course, Gina's parents gushed about how talented and brilliant she was when she won a singing competition at the mere age of nine.

They never noticed their son forlornly staring out the window.

As you may have guessed, their son was named Justin. He was a very handsome little boy, with baby blue eyes, tanned skin, and teeth that were disturbingly _too _straight and white for a nine-year-old. When he walked out of the house with his parents, the neighbors would coo over his lovely appearance, so unlike his fraternal twin Gina, who was scrawny with crooked teeth.

(It was rather unusual, because Justin looked much _prettier _than his sister.)

But of course, after a few years of seeing his same beautiful face again and again, the novelty soon wore off, and the neighbors began to take a lively interest in Gina, whose voice rang perfect notes shrilly every morning, practicing for a recital and whatnot.

Justin impatiently waited for everyone to lose interest in his sister and turn their attention back to _him,_ the good-looking one.

But it never did.

Sure, he still got compliments here and there, but nothing compared to the child prodigy that was his sister.

Maybe it was his fault. He always turned down his parents' offer of piano lessons, always relying on his beauty.

But things changed (a tiny bit) when he reached high school. His physique developed even more, turning his adorable toddler self into a Greek statue of Adonis himself.

* * *

Naturally, lovesick geeky girls left love notes in his locker. Popular, lip-glossed girls flirted with him, asking him out for dates. Guys invited him to wild parties (and occasionally tried to ask him out, too).

Although Justin was relieved, since he was regaining all the attention that he thought he deserved, it simply was _not _enough. He wanted more.

He signed up for modeling classes, and he became an instant hit with the industry. All he had to do was smile, flashing his beautiful pearly whites, and the entire modeling world swooned.

The thing was, though, having a career in modeling doesn't always lead to fame. More often than not, it just led to fancy underwear or body spray commercials and advertisements. And Justin, again, wanted more than that. So he saw the solution: join a reality show.

It was a tough choice. Singing contests were out, since he couldn't sing. If he sang a single note, not only would it ruin his reputation, but it may also strain his precious vocal cords. Cooking competitions can do his gorgeous, silky hair damage. Dancing was hardly an option, either. The last time he danced resulted to a sprained ankle for him and a broken hip for Lady Mimi Cici Didi Laduda. Since then, he vowed to never put his attractive ankles to shame again, in wearing a cast!

Oh, yeah, and he also felt bad for his aunt and her broken hip.

After browsing through reality shows for nearly an hour in the Internet and not finding a suitable one, he caught a sight of his sister, belting out an old song with her lovely voice while cooking something that smelled really good for dinner.

And as Justin watched her, her crooked teeth exposed as she sang, her big feet tapping on the floor, and her hair looking dull and lifeless, the model came to a terrible conclusion.

His sister was _beautiful._

And she was beautiful without even trying to be. How could he compete?

Desperately, he scrolled down the page for a reality show that didn't involve talents, which he definitely didn't have. Well, there was…_The Biggest Loser._

Justin groaned. His sister raised an eyebrow. "Anything wrong, Justin?" she asked, breaking off her melodious singing.

"No," the dark-haired boy snapped. "Leave me alone."

Gina shrugged and started humming. Justin placed his hands on his temples, his eyes scanning the computer screen.

_Total Drama Island._

Straightening, the teenage model clicked on the link, and he was relieved to find out that the activities didn't involve anything of talents. Only the will to compete in death-defying activities.

Justin hesitated. Was he really willing to put his lovely face in danger? His face, which was his only achievement?

Sighing, he filled out the details and sent his application form via email. He also sent one of his modeling videos as an audition tape, since he couldn't be bothered filming one.

* * *

Well, things were going rather smoothly. He charmed everyone with his killer good looks and managed to win his way through the competition with his chiseled features and magnificent body.

And then one day, the narcissistic Chris (who definitely WASN'T as hot as he was, thank you very much) announced a challenge that made his stomach lurch.

A talent show.

Great…now what was he going to do? He couldn't look like a talentless freak in national TV!

Just then, he caught a sight of his reflection on the pond. Water…his face…that's it!

And his plan was an eventual success. He managed to get a high rating from Chef by modeling. Things were looking up for him…

…until Heather caused his elimination.

And once again, talent was what led to his downfall.

* * *

The model boy was desperate.

Obviously, he wasn't going to win by looks alone. He needed a strategy.

He pondered on this topic. Well, Heather caused his elimination, and _she _made it pretty far.

Maybe he should try being an antagonist. After all, he read in _Cosmopolitan _that the 'bad boy' look was really in these days! That will just make him even hotter.

And so, Justin participated in Total Drama Action, causing eliminations left to right…until the unthinkable happened.

Justin fell in love with someone else…other than himself, of course.

Courtney, the annoying prep. It only took a song for him to become truly attracted to her. She had a beautiful voice.

It mildly disturbed him that his concept of beauty wasn't by looks, but by talent.

Once again, his elimination was caused by a manipulative woman.

Courtney dropped him two seconds flat after he sacrificed his place for her. She ran into the arms of that delinquent, Duncan.

That's what he got for being attracted to someone who _obviously _wasn't worth his time. She wasn't even _that _pretty…

Well, her voice, her guitar and violin playing, her amazing ability to speak in several languages…

Ugh.

* * *

He didn't qualify for the third season, so someone replaced his title as the 'antagonist.'

But even worse? Someone replaced his title as the 'hot guy.'

Justin felt a pang when he saw girls gush about Alejandro Burromuerto, when he was watching Total Drama in the Playa des Losers television. Those girls used to swoon when he walked through the door. He was once in his place, the hot guy.

Dammit, even Heather fell for him! _The _cunning Heather, who was immune to Justin's gorgeous charms. How Alejandro manage to do that?

Justin came to one conclusion: Alejandro was more attractive than he is.

And this guy was not only attractive, he was also multi-talented.

Now, Justin was nobody. He didn't leave any mark whatsoever in Total Drama, and he certainly didn't become famous.

He was only a statue. Something nice to look at for a while, without any personality or talents.

And when statues begin to crumble, they were easily replaced with some other chiseled form of rock.

* * *

**Eh…I don't know. I made his view a bit egotistical, if anyone noticed. The ending is kind of rushed; sorry for that. I don't think I'm going to write an antagonistic chapter for Courtney (I mean, come on, she's on the heroes' team in All-Stars!), so next up is Alejandro. Please review! :)**


End file.
